


Take Care

by darwinsdonut



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Almost Plotless Fluff, Carolina's Love of Horror Movies, Domestic Fluff, Modern AU, Multi, Sick Maine, Washington's Just Trying To Take Care of His Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darwinsdonut/pseuds/darwinsdonut
Summary: Maine is -not- sick. Washington and Carolina are definitely overreacting.[ Final Fic for Rarepair Week (Probably) ]





	Take Care

Maine was _not_ sick. 

He didn’t care _what_ Wash and Carolina thought. He wasn’t sick. He hadn’t been sick since he was a small child, and he’d drank so much orange juice since then that sickness was only a vague memory. 

But when he got home from work, fatigue weighing him down so he kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the couch, it seemed his protests had gone ignored: Carolina stood in the kitchen over a pot of soup, and Washington immediately tackled him with a quilt. 

Maine groaned as Washington sat up, squishing Maine against the back of the couch, and declared, “You’re resting all weekend. And you’re taking medicine, and eating soup, and drinking tea. Or me and Carolina will physically _fight you.”_

He glared at his boyfriend and signed, _You would lose._

Washington leaned close, his amber and blue eyes staring Maine down. “That’s not a bet you want to make. Now lay down and let us take care of you.” 

Maine grumbled as his boyfriend pushed him back down by his shoulder. He truly did feel miserable, but he _hated_ being fawned over, and he wasn’t sick anyway. Just a little… Fatigued. That was it. Fatigued. 

“Come on,” Washington insisted, pulling at Maine’s arm. “We’re going to our room.” 

Maine looked up at Washington and signed, _Why?_

“Because you’re getting rest and warmth and soup. Carolina, you pick a movie yet?” 

_“Texas Chainsaw Massacre!”_ She called from the kitchen as Washington toted a discontent Maine through. 

“No, Carolina! _Relaxing!”_

Maine raised his eyebrows and signed, _We could watch that._

“Fuck,” Carolina called back, having not seen Maine signing behind her. Washington was still pushing Maine into the bedroom. “Uh- what the fuck is relaxing? _Nightmare on Elm Street? Dream House? The Grudge?_ Those are all pretty mild!” 

“What about a Disney movie?” Washington called as he sat Maine on the bed and took off Maine’s shoes. Maine made a face at the suggestion. 

“Fuck that soft shit!” Carolina said. “Ow! Fuck!” 

Maine glanced up in alarm and Washington muttered, “That’s the eighth time she’s burned herself. While making _soup.”_

Maine caught Washington’s attention and signed, _John Wick?_

“Relaxing! What part of that do you people not get!” Washington exclaimed as he set the shoes by the door and Maine unbuttoned his shirt. 

“What’d he suggest?” Carolina asked. 

_“John Wick!_ Because action movies and death are so relaxing!” 

_Death could be relaxing,_ Maine signed, and his boyfriend rolled his eyes. Maine grinned, his shirt off, and saw Washington admire Maine’s upper body. 

“I always somehow forget just how _big_ you are,” Washington said, eyes roaming Maine’s shoulders. Maine, _not sick,_ smirked at him, and Washington rolled his eyes. _“No._ That beautiful body of yours is exactly why we have to get you taken care of! Now c’mon, help me.” 

Maine huffed and stood. His vision swam and he couldn’t protest quite as much as he wanted as Washington traded out Maine’s work pants for pajamas. Once Washington had sufficiently dressed Maine how he wanted, he sat him on the bed, commanded him to stay, and left the room. 

Maine glanced over at the dresser, on top of which was a shelf for DVD’s, a TV, and a gaming console that they used mostly as a DVD-player. Knowing Washington probably wouldn’t show up any time soon to stop him, he stood from the bed, causing his head to swim again. Maybe he was sick… He was dizzy, anyway… _Not sick. Just dehydrated. I’m fine. No one can prove otherwise._

He wandered over to the dresser and glanced over the DVD shelf, eyes roaming the titles. Carolina always loved horror movies, and Washington was secretly still five-years-old in terms of movie taste. What was the median? 

Ah. 

He grabbed the movie and turned on the console, wavering slightly at the movement. His vision blurred and his nose itched; a racketous sneeze burst from him. Almost immediately, Washington’s head poked around the corner of the doorframe, judging heterochromic eyes on Maine. Maine poked his tongue out at him, causing a series of coughs to follow the sneeze. 

Washington rolled his eyes and walked over, grabbing Maine’s hand and tugging him toward the bed. Maine nudged him and signed, _I’m not sick!_

“Right now, you’re as healthy as I am straight,” Washington said. 

It was Maine’s turn to roll his eyes, but he complied and crawled to the middle of their king-size bed, laying back against the pillows. He was, to be fair, deteriorating quite rapidly. 

Maine piled into the bed, head swimming, and zoned out as Carolina set up the movie and Washington smothered him in blankets and the occasional cheek-kiss. After a few minutes, Carolina had snuggled up on his left, and Washington clustered up on his right. He wasn't exactly sure when the bowl of soup had been set on his stomach, and set to eating it to please his insistent lovers as the movie started. 

Muddiness swarmed through his head halfway through the soup, and his head rocked back against the pillows. Soup forgotten, tucked warm between his lovers and a bunch of blankets, he fell asleep. 

* * *

Patches of sleep eased intervals of waking to wracking coughs, usually with Carolina or Washington rubbing Maine’s back until the coughs eased. Come morning, his throat was hoarse, but he felt better. Refreshed. He laid in the buttercream sunlight of morning, Carolina’s leg thrown across him and Washington’s hand nestled in Maine’s chest-hair. He often slept on his back for the specific purpose of Washington and Carolina having equal access to him. He was happy to see their heads burrowed together on his shoulders, the three cocooned in their big bed, happy and warm and together. 

Then he sneezed. 

And the two on either side of him woke up. 

Carolina got Maine into the shower while Washington started breakfast; by the time Carolina and Maine were cleaned off, the steam having helped him wake up and clear his head, Washington had cereal set out. (Cocoa-Puffs, because, again, Washington’s tastes were that of a small child.) They sat down at the table and started to eat, Washington rising to feed the cats, Charlotte and Augusta. 

They ate quietly together, Carolina commenting occasionally on her plans for the day. Saturday welcomed them with an open schedule, few responsibilities to interrupt the easy peace of morning. 

“Here,” Carolina said, after dropping her bowl in the sink, first to finish breakfast. She passed Maine a pill and he eyed it warily. 

_What is it?_

“Medicine. It’ll help you feel better.” 

He started to sign _I feel fine!_ but a cough betrayed him. He sighed, and just replied, _Fine._

He downed the pill reluctantly and Carolina smiled and kissed his head. “See you when I get back, sweetie.” 

Carolina kissed Washington’s cheek and then left. 

Maine sat back in the chair as Washington nudged a cup of orange juice to him. Maine rolled his eyes and downed it, and then choked and coughed. 

“Would you get over yourself!” Washington exclaimed, once Maine could breathe again. “You’re sick! You don’t just drink orange juice like a shot of vodka! What is wrong with you!” 

_I’m not sick,_ Maine insisted, biting the inside of his lip as Washington’s face reddened. 

“You have to accept us taking care of you or it’s going to get worse! You could get pneumonia! Or bronchitis! And end up in the hospital!” 

Maine’s face screwed up like he might sneeze again- 

“What do we have to do to convince you to take it easy!” 

Maine opened his eyes and forced them to meet Washington’s as he signed, _Play the Eagles._

Washington gaped, and then, “What the _fuck!_ ” 

Maine’s lips parted in silent laughter, causing Washington to stare at him incredulously. Maine’s coughs returned to cover his laughter, but he grinned at Washington all the same. 

And then signed, _Screwdrivers? I think there’s vodka in the freezer we could add to this orange juice- might justify my behavior-_

“NO!” 

Maine’s grin spread and he stood from the chair, slumping into Washington, who stumbled back before catching him. Maine kissed Washington’s head and leaned back, smiling at him. _Okay, I’m a little sick._

“A little?” 

Maine patted his back. _Take what you can get._

“Can we take care of you?” 

Maine met Washington’s eyes and smiled. _I guess so._

“Woohoo! I’m calling Carolina!” 

Maine sat down at the table and drank another glass of orange juice, not chugging this one like vodka. 

Washington went to call Carolina to pick up some goodies. Charlotte the cat approached Maine and he reached down to pet her. He listened as Washington jabbered excitedly about Maine finally letting them take care of him, after years of Maine being the strong one to never let anyone help him out. And maybe it was a small victory, to admit needing their help, but it was one they all would take. 

Washington finished the phone call and their eyes met. 

Maine smiled, because he knew this was a milestone, and just a step closer to spending the rest of his life with the two people he loved most.


End file.
